I Can't Stop Drinking About You
by bridgetlynn
Summary: He's her best friend and she's tried for years to get him to let go of the ghost of a past relationship before it destroys the success he's built himself and drives him into an early grave. Today certainly isn't the day she's going to give up.


**Disclaimer:** Ryan Murphy & Co/Fox owns them. I just borrow them and beat them with an angst stick every once in a while.

**Prompt:** "I can't stop drinking about you." - PuckRachel Drabble Meme on LJ by: sarcastic_fina.

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><p>It was the same beeping blaring from the alarm clock speakers that roused Noah Puckerman from sleep on Tuesday. It was the same muttered curse and slam of a hand that silenced the sound cutting through his hangover as the day before (and the day before that and the day before that). It was the same shower, same old jeans and t-shirt, same Jack Daniels he took a pull from, same stairs he half stumbled down, same living room he passed through and finally the same scowling blonde pushing a cup of coffee across his kitchen counter towards him.<p>

It was the same monotonous morning routine that he'd gone through every day he wasn't on tour for the last fourteen years. The only change had been the location since Quinn, as his business manager (and only remaining friend from Lima), had convinced him to purchase a house ten years ago rather then staying in the same ratty apartment he had moved to in Nashville after college.

"Hung over again?" she questioned as if she didn't know the answer to her question. "Or still drunk?"

"Yup," he muttered, sipping the coffee and not clarifying that it was probably more the latter then the former. "Studio today?"

"No," Quinn replied quietly. "I canceled the rest of the week since you haven't written anything in months."

"Then what are you doing here? You do have a husband and kids to take care of across town."

"It's one in the afternoon. James is at the hospital and the kids are at school. I came by to make sure you hadn't drowned in your own vomit."

"This wasn't supposed to be my life," he mumbled around the edge of the coffee cup and debated how fast he could make sure he was 'still drunk' considering he was fairly certain he had some liquor in the kitchen.

"Jesus Puck," Quinn hissed. "You're thirty-six years old. You've been signed for fourteen years. You've recorded seven albums, not one of which has charted less then number one. You have seven Grammy awards, ten Academy of Country Music Awards, your blood is practically made up of whiskey at this point and you still won Entertainer of the Year at the ACMs three years in a row! Could you maybe just try and pretend that your life doesn't suck?"

"I know my life doesn't suck," he retorted. "I know that."

"Well you sure don't act like it," she snapped back and took a deep breath. "Listen, you just came off tour, you've never really taken a break and James and I were talking about this program in LA. He knows some of the doctor's there."

"No," he immediately interrupted. "I always handle my shit when I'm working, I've never looked bad in the press, I've never missed a show. I'm fine."

"Puck, please. We're worried," she whispered and he immediately felt a pang of regret. Quinn was the only person who hadn't cut him out after _the wedding _and he couldn't be more grateful to her for it (though he'd bet that since he was now worth more than a few million the others were regretting not choosing his side of things). "The kids are worried too. They're old enough now to realize that Uncle Noah is...sick."

"Sick huh? Why don't you just tell Jamie and Anna that I'm a drunk just like my Dad was? Oh right, I forgot, it's acceptable when you're a rich and famous country music star. So long as I'm not making an ass out of myself in public and can still perform right?"

"You have to get over this Puck," Quinn replied, ignoring the excuses he had been making for his behavior as she always did and going right to the heart of the matter. "It's been years. Rachel married Finn. She didn't choose you and that _isn't_ your fault."

"Hey now," Puck snapped back, trying to adopt a joking tone. "Rachel, and all of those fuckers, choosing Finn was the best thing that ever happened to your career. It gave me albums and albums worth of country music drivel to write about. It made me famous and got you the big bucks."

"I'd rather be still trying to book you into local bars like back in college then negotiating major contracts with tour promoters if it meant you were happy."

Puck sighed and stood up to cross the room where he dug around under the counter until he found another bottle of Jack. He pointedly ignored Quinn's stifled sound of distress and poured himself a large tumbler full. Without turning to look at his friend he studied the amber liquid and approached the one question that he had never, despite all the years that had passed, been able to figure out the answer to, "You know I don't give a shit about the rest of them."

"I know," Quinn replied and he could hear the nervous tone her voice took on whenever that time, so many years ago, was brought up.

"I've given up on trying to understand why she would go to OSU with us instead of New York, keep going back to him all throughout college despite the fact that he cheated practically every other month and then marry him a month after graduation only to stay in Lima to have babies. The one thing I want to know is, why the _fuck_ does she _hate_ me?"

He saw Quinn jump out of the corner of his eye as he practically screamed the last question and he immediately reigned in his temper because the blonde was the last person he should be taking his anger out on.

"Personally, I never understood why you don't hate her," Quinn replied quietly seemingly avoiding his gaze as it shot over to her. "She strung you along, bounced back and forth between your bed and Finn's and you took her back every time. She did to you exactly what he did to her."

"Fine; I'm pathetic. I should hate her. We've covered this more then once Quinn. But my question was, why does _she_ hate _me_? What did I do to her?"

"You mean other then the wedding debacle?"

"She's _not_ pissed about that. She can't be. She can't even pretend to be surprised about that," Puck muttered.

"Honestly?" she finally asked after a few beats of silence had passed through the kitchen.

"Yes. It's the one thing I never understood; because, for _years_ all I ever did was _love_ her."

"You did nothing to her. I just think she was jealous," Quinn finally said bluntly.

"Jealous? Of what?"

Quinn sighed and seemed to be weighing her words carefully as she began elaborating, "Well, it's pretty simple when you take a step back and think about it Puck. For all her dreams and her big fucking mouth and her undeniable talent? I think she was a pathetic little girl who was too afraid to try for New York just in case she didn't make it. Rachel Berry could never handle not being the star; I think she just finally realized that it might take actual time and effort. She couldn't handle ever being told no. So it was easier just not to try then to try and possibly fail."

"She wouldn't have failed," Noah immediately denied. "She was too talented. I still don't get the jealously angle."

"Jesus would you listen to yourself!" Quinn screeched, sounding more like her high school self then she had in years. "She was jealous of you Puck. How after all these years do you still not understand that? You spent your summers playing gigs all over the mid-west. You wrote songs and made demos and had a record deal waiting for you after graduation. She picked Finn because no one would ever think he was more talented then she was. She decided she hates you because you worked for and got what she thought she was entitled to."

"I loved her."

"I know you did," Quinn replied softening her tone. "I just wish I could say she ever loved you back. But I can't. I was at the wedding when you drunkenly spoke and _didn't _hold your peace. She didn't even blink Noah. I was also the one who pulled Mike off of you and then waited in the ER with you after while James stitched up the damage he did to your face."

"Hey did you ever thank me for introducing you to your husband?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"A few times," Quinn shot back with a dry laugh and a pointed look that told him he wasn't weaseling out of a discussion that was a long time coming.

"I still can't believe Mike hit me. For Finn of all people."

"Yea well, drunk or not you would have killed Finn. You weren't angry with Mike."

"True," Puck muttered and stared back down at the drink he hadn't touched yet. "Do you think she's happy?"

"Last time I talked to my Mom the rumors around town were that Finn's still cheating on her, they're raising their children Christian and Rachel's wearing a bright smile while blissfully telling anyone who will listen all about how happy they are. So apparently, the Hudson's are raising me and my sister. I'm thinking teen pregnancy by sophomore year if not sooner. She'll never leave him and even if she did, I wouldn't let you go down that road."

"That's my Berry," he muttered. "The best actress I've ever known and now no one else will ever know it either."

"It's the life she chose Noah. You offered her everything right up until you couldn't fight for her anymore. It's time to let go."

"Yea," he breathed out the word and felt like something had dropped off his shoulders. He glanced back down at the glass in his hand and dumped it out into the sink without giving himself too much time to think. "You were saying something about a break?"

And when he looked back up he couldn't help but return the brilliant smile his inarguably best friend in the world was giving him with a small sad one of his own.

A little over a year later, after a three month stay at a "resort" outside of LA and a long, slow, relaxing recording process (during which Quinn, James and their kids all but moved into his Nashville home to keep him on the straight and narrow) Noah Puckerman's newest single, "I Can't Stop Drinking About You", was released to rave reviews.

And when he was asked what or who the song was about, all he'd say was, "It's a good-bye."

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><p>AN: I hope my readers enjoyed my little detour away from straight-up Puckleberry; but I did give you the over arching umbrella of a darker version of Rachel hovering over Noah's life. Much as I love the little Diva, I think she has it in her to be exactly as Quinn described in this fic - Rachel has some darker elements to her personality (they've been briefly touched upon in canon) and I find them terribly interesting. I hope the little hints I dropped in Quinn and Noah's conversation as to what type of relationship Rachel and Noah did have after high school were picked up on (personally, I think they justify the rage Quinn is trying to suppress for her friends sake).


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